Grand Duchy (2)
Yanes was underestimating the North.
She hadn't traveled around since the snowstorm season, so all she knew about how vicious the monsters had become was hearsay.
"Oh my god."
That was why her eyes widened at the horrific scene unfolding before her.
It was a fairly large merchant caravan. You could tell they'd hastily assembled it to deal with goods tied up by the snowstorm for so long.
The problem was that the caravan leader had shelled out a fortune to hire mercenaries, even accounting for that.
"Boss, these look like the Bonefang Mercenaries."
"A silver-rank mercenary band got wiped out?"
They were a group with some reputation even up North. Around thirty strong, all seasoned northern hunters—tough bastards.
"Roughly sixty, I'd say."
About ten bodies lay scattered, half-eaten and abandoned. The rest had been dragged off by monsters, judging by the blood trails.
Given the blood volume and caravan size, sixty made sense—and that was a massive force. Especially since these were hardy northern mercenaries torn apart alive, pointing to a raid by multiple mid-to-large monsters.
The bite marks suggested fully grown mid-sized ones. And the smaller traces meant they had underlings too.
"Weird. This area's only got wolves. Dire wolves or frost wolves at worst."
"Tch. Boss, looks like the ecosystem shifted while we were gone."
Wolf-type monsters couldn't pull off a bloodbath like this. You'd need at least five troll-class beasts—and double that, considering the Bonefangs' strength.
If it was that dangerous...
"The Forbidden Forest."
If it was the Forbidden Forest in the northwest of the North, that changed everything. The monsters nesting there were far fiercer mutants compared to normal ones.
"That's pretty far, though. Kinda reaching, don't you think?"
"It's the worst-case scenario. Pray it's not."
Valerius clicked his tongue and first gathered the caravan's cargo—mostly proof of identity and manifests.
Raven collected mercenary badges from the remaining Bonefang corpses.
"We bail quick. Stay sharp, no dozing."
"You got it."
With that, the group hurried away.
"What's the Forbidden Forest?"
Yanes, who'd been wrinkling her nose at the thick blood stench, finally piped up now that she could breathe a bit.
"A place with mana phenomena that mutate monsters. It's on the border with the Holy Kingdom to the northwest. Pretty close to Rozanica, actually."
"Ah, that place. Lots of dangerous monsters?"
"Tons. But I heard they usually can't leave the forest."
Yanes tilted her head at that. So, no problem then? If they couldn't escape.
Reading her, Valerius smirked.
"The issue is, if they did, it means either a long-range traveler appeared—or the forest expanded."
"Either way, headache city."
"Like whether the enemy midlaner bulked up or their botlaner did. Shit's grim either way."
"...What the hell does that even mean?"
She was already stressing over beasts and monsters; if the Forbidden Forest got involved, the North would be total chaos.
"Central'd send troops if it's the Forbidden Forest, right?"
"Like those fuckers would do jack shit."
Yanes shrugged at Valerius's deep-seated distrust of central nobles. Fair point, though. They'd just kill time, spend northern cash, and dip.
"Sophia, sort the docs first."
"...In a moving carriage?"
"Why're you pissed?"
"You'd have me do it if I wasn't laid up!"
"Sharp eyes for a merchant boss, huh."
Yanes sighed deeply. With her mana overload leaving her bedridden, Sophia had taken on most of her work. Mostly admin stuff—letters, info compiling.
Seemed a bit harsh. Valerius was shockingly flexible and inclusive for an ex-military guy. Even accounting for his commoner roots, his language skills were top-tier; he'd probably handle it better himself.
"No bodyguard gigs, so it's fine."
"Sigh. Yeah, okay."
Sophia soothed Yanes, who hated being bossed around on instinct. Truth was, Valerius handled most fights, so she was pulling her weight.
'Feels less like thanks and more like he's off to play, though.'
People were like that. You needed the "hard work" or "exhaustion" act to appreciate it. But he seemed thrilled, like a kid at a playground. Coming back grinning, skin somehow glowier—it gave her weird vibes.
"Boss."
Raven, focused on driving, called out gravely.
"What."
"Blood smell since we hit the road."
"Hm."
Raven had been Valerius's adjutant for years. His nose beat even a master's.
"Plow through. If it's related, wipe 'em."
"You good?"
"If you two hold the carriage."
Raven nodded and drove carefully. Sophia set aside her writing, grabbed her weapon, and prepped for battle.
"I hear it."
Getting closer, Valerius's senses picked it up too. Hot blood scent, shouts. Animal shrieks, clashing steel—classic monster fight noise.
"Speeding up!"
Raven whipped the horses. As their hot breaths and pounding hooves closed in, the battle sounds grew louder.
"Stop."
Valerius leaped off mid-stride, legs powering him forward. The scene came into view.
Seven silver-armored knights were surrounded by monsters. Thankfully, not Forbidden Forest types.
'Lucky.'
Five trolls and twenty symbiotic kobolds. Tough for seven to handle.
"Arararara!"
Valerius let out a bizarre yell. Nemea's dungeon toll was steep, so no summon this time. He drew a shitty axe from a merc corpse instead.
Muscles bulged explosively as mana coated the axe, forming a blade aura—a expert-plus trick.
Craaaack!
Bursting in at insane speed, Valerius swung. The rusty axe cleaved a troll in half, dropping it with its own tough bulk.
"Kobolds are yours!"
He barked at the unfamiliar knights and charged the next troll.
"With you."
The apparent leader smartly flanked him. Valerius eyed him quick: well-maintained gear, practical steel plate—battle-hardened unit. Good physique, solid aura.
"Tch."
But the chest emblem—a silver wolf head. Iconic Serpia Grand Duke symbol.
The knight's sword aura flared. Polished expert blade.
He charged, slicing a troll's leg.
"Hah. Right."
Valerius got it: posturing. Couldn't split it clean, but signaling he could match the show.
"Do you. Whatever."
Shrugging off the knight with a hollow laugh, Valerius ignored him. Not the priority.
He just wanted their intel anyway.
With him joining, the knights seized momentum fast. Watching that massive madman axe-split trolls would shake any human—monsters worse.
Slash.
Last kobold's neck fell to a knight's blade. Fight over.
"Thanks first. Blue Wolf Knights, vice-captain 'Karl Tovfain.'"
The self-named Karl extended a bloody gauntlet.
Valerius's eyes twitched. Arrogant gaze, zero manners—textbook noble prick.
"Black Lion Mercenary captain."
"...Rude bastard."
Ignoring the sloppy intro and handshake, Valerius turned. Karl's eyes narrowed.
"That lowly merc scum..."
Knights muttered fury, but Valerius ignored them, inspecting his troll kills.
'Fuck. Looks like Forbidden Forest shit.'
Forest mutants turned albino-white. Over half these trolls had about thirty percent white patches.
Kobolds were troll minions anyway. Valerius was versatile, but no monster ecologist.
This was big—North Grand Duke needed to know. Maybe ask Grant's Mage Tower to investigate too.
Sighing heavily, Valerius stood, dusting off. Evidence? Knights'd carry it. Wait, no need to tell the duke—they'd report it.
"Hold up, merc."
Vice-captain grabbed him as he finished and turned to leave.
"What."
"...Grr."
Baring teeth at the blunt banmal, Karl shook it off.
"This was our fight. You crashed in, so no loot. It's our contract."
"Ah. Whatever, do you."
Boring bullshit. Glancing contemptuously at the knights, Valerius walked off without regret. No thanks, just grabbing spoils—classic medieval savages.
"Toplaner's so lonely."
In a world full of silver-spoon honor whores, it hurt the heart.